


Disguises

by orphan_account



Category: Chuck (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, M/M, Unrequited Love, Yuletide 2010
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-18
Updated: 2010-12-18
Packaged: 2017-10-13 18:24:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/140316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was getting easier and easier to lie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Disguises

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ashcat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashcat/gifts).



> Written for ashcat for the Yuletide 2010 challenge. It didn't end up as slashy as it was supposed to, sorry! But I hope you like it anyway and have a great Christmas. Thanks to SB for the beta.

**Stanford University, 2003**

Blood was starting to seep through the hastily wrapped gauze. Bryce held the wounded arm to one side, and walked as quickly as he could manage back through the campus to the frat house before anyone spotted the injury. It would raise too many questions that he couldn’t afford.

It had been clumsy – Bryce was determined to do well in this round of training, he’d been picked by the CIA, it was his chance to really do something with his life, to prove himself. In that determination, he’d pushed himself too hard. Weapons training could be dangerous; the bullet graze on his arm was testament to that. At least it hadn’t been a solid hit, that would have meant hospitals and Bryce didn’t have that luxury.

Thank God it was late. Chuck should be asleep, and Bryce could slip back in and patch himself up without anyone noticing. After all, he’d done it before.

Mid-terms were coming up and so the frat house was unusually quiet. Normally there were still people up, and often drinking, until the early hours of the morning. Bryce was glad; the graze really hurt and it meant that he didn’t have to hide the pain as much once he got inside. The heat had cauterized the area and temporarily stopped the pain, but now it was building up and Bryce had to grit his teeth not to cry out as he climbed the steps to the room that he and Chuck shared.

He’d have gone straight to the bathroom, but his first aid kit was under the bed. Bryce opened the door silently using the hand not tightly gripping the bandage, careful not to let the door creak and wake Chuck up. Normally, Chuck just mumbled in complaint and turned over when Bryce came in late.

But not tonight. As soon as Bryce saw Chuck hunched over his desk with notes and books strewn everywhere, he swore under his breath and tried to backtrack. It was too late; Chuck had heard the door and had turned to see him, the welcoming grin that Bryce found way too adorable freezing as he took in Bryce’s appearance.

“Bryce?”

Bryce stared at him for a moment, trying to work through his options and get out of this. He’d been determined to keep Chuck out of the CIA part of life; his friend had too much heart for the life that the CIA was prepping Bryce for. Bryce was certain that it would destroy everything that made Chuck who he was, and he couldn’t stand for that to happen.

Pasting on a grin to hide the grimace, Bryce tried to brush it off. “It’s nothing, Chuck. Just a graze. Could you help me patch it up? There’s a first aid kit under my bed.”

Chuck seemed to visibly shake himself off and dug around under Bryce’s bed for the green box. Bryce steeled himself against the pain, trying not to show how much the wound was starting to hurt. Chuck would just panic.

Thankfully, Chuck made a valiant attempt at taking charge of the situation, fluttering at Bryce until he sat down at the desk Chuck had vacated and opening up the first aid kit before he took Bryce’s injured arm.

Getting his first good look at it, Chuck swallowed. “Bryce. There’s blood. A lot of blood.”

Spotting Chuck get a little pale, Bryce tried to calm him down. Last thing he needed was Chuck yelling for help and drawing attention to him. It was one thing the CIA training really pushed. Don’t get noticed and learn to blend in. “It looks worse than it is. Come on, Chuck, stay with me. You gotta patch this up.”

Chuck ran to the bathroom and Bryce tried to focus on something other than the pain that was building up. He didn’t notice Chuck come back until he started talking again. “Bryce? Buddy? I really think you should go to the hospital.”

Forcing himself to concentrate again, Bryce shook his head. “No,” he pushed out through gritted teeth as Chuck gently stretched his arm out across a towel that he’d brought. Moving it sent flashes of agony up his arm. “You can do it, just clean it and tape it closed.”

“Here. I got you these.” Chuck held out a couple of pills and Bryce gratefully downed them dry, leaning back in the chair and closing his eyes as Chuck undid the quick bandage, trying to stifle any sounds of pain while the drugs kicked in. They worked much faster than Bryce had been expecting and he opened his eyes to look for the pill pot.

“Better?” Chuck asked.

“Yeah. What did you give me?” Bryce trusted Chuck with his life, but he was curious. Chuck wasn’t the kind of guy to do drugs, but whatever it was, Bryce was grateful, the pain was receding enough that he could think clearly again.

“Percocet. It’s the good stuff.”

“How did you get it?” Bryce asked, curious.

Chuck gave a slightly embarrassed laugh. “That’s a funny story actually. It was an accident at a Halloween party. Morgan and I always go as the sandworm from Dune. Anyway, there had been a few too many beers and long story short, I cracked my head open on the fountain outside the house. Was seeing double for a couple of days. Ellie was so pissed, it took days to get rid of all the blood.” He stopped for a moment. “Maybe more nerdy than funny?”

“Dude, I’m not complaining.” Bryce laughed. He could see the whole thing happening in his head.

By the time he’d got the image out of his head, he realized that Chuck had unwrapped the bandage and was looking his arm. “How did you say you did this?”

Bryce quickly flicked through his options for something plausible. “Just caught it on a fence. I think it looks worse than it is.” He pasted on his most reassuring grin and just hoped Chuck would believe him. Any mention of a bullet would just freak Chuck out.

For a moment, it looked like Chuck was going to call him on it, but he was getting better at the lying. Bryce just kept telling himself that it was for Chuck’s own good, but he hated that each time he did it, they became easier. Chuck was his best friend, one of the few people that had ever really cared about him without wanting something in return. Chuck was so unassuming, so caring that Bryce had warmed to him right away. Had fallen for him not long after. But Chuck didn’t return those feelings and so Bryce had to content himself with being friends.

Chuck didn’t look happy, but he didn’t press the point and just started to gently clean the wound and neatly tape it back together again. Bryce closed his eyes and let the painkillers settle. The cleaning hurt, but he didn’t complain. The work he was preparing for, he was likely to be more injured than this – Fleming had made no secret about the dangers he could face on missions. It was another reason not to get too close to anyone. He cared deeply for Chuck, but being that close to someone could be dangerous for a spy. They could never know if something happened to you, or worse, they could be used against you and Bryce couldn’t cope with the idea of that happening to Chuck.

After the pulling stopped, Bryce watched Chuck as he carefully rewrapped Bryce’s arm with clean gauze. Chuck was pale; he was squeamish about blood but was determinedly working to help Bryce. It was one of the things Bryce loved about him – Chuck would find the courage to do anything if he thought it would help someone.

Chuck’s fingers were brushing against his bare skin as he worked and Bryce gave into a moment of weakness, enjoying the touch, but resisted the urge to lean forward and bring them closer together. Chuck had no idea of the effect he had on Bryce, he had a fairly low view of himself. It was sad, because Chuck had accomplished so much to even get to Stanford, and he couldn’t see it.

As Chuck tied off the edge of the bandage, Bryce belatedly realized that his resolve was weakening and he pulled his arm away before he did something that he’d regret later. He could not bring Chuck into the CIA life, he reminded himself.

He immediately hated himself when Chuck looked confused and slightly hurt. Forcing another smile, Bryce reassured him, “Sorry. You just pressed on it.” Another lie. For Chuck’s own good. “This feels much better, thanks.”

Chuck nodded, putting the first aid kit neatly back together and throwing the bloody towel into the laundry basket. Bryce noticed that he still looked a little off, then wondered if Chuck’s paleness was due to more than just the blood. He glanced over at Chuck’s notes and asked, “Studying for midterms? You’re up late.”

“Yeah, for tomorrow. There’s this one section on encoded images, I’m not sure what it’s going to be like.”

They went through this every exam period. Chuck would have at least one freakout that he would fail and lose his scholarship. He was acing Fleming’s class; if Chuck didn’t pass then none of them would. No point in telling him that though; Chuck wouldn’t believe it until the results came back.

“You want some help?”

Chuck looked at the pile of books and Bryce before looking at his clock and realizing it was already 4 a.m. and shook his head. “I should probably get some sleep. Your arm all right?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

They both stripped down to their boxers and crawled into bed. Bryce lay awake until he heard Chuck’s breathing even out. They were in senior year; at the end of this year Bryce would be sent off to a CIA training facility where he hoped to become a spy. At that point, he would probably never see Chuck again. The thought caused his heart to twist, but he pushed it aside.

Bryce rolled over and tried to sleep. At least with the training, he could make sure that nothing ever happened to Chuck. It would be worth it to keep him out of harm’s way.


End file.
